Slender Shorts
by kairi's friend
Summary: A collection of one-shots set after the events of "Slender Blind." Featuring your favorite characters and more!
1. Nightmare

**A/N: Hey, guys! This is the first episode in a series of one-shots, all of them set after the events of "Slender Blind," unless stated otherwise. They mostly involve the characters from the other story, but you will meet a few new faces, so to speak. I hope you enjoy these one-shots! :)**

He doesn't know why he's in the middle of the forest at night. He doesn't know why he has a flashlight in his hand. All he knows is that he woke up here. He clicks on the flashlight and shines it around. All he sees are trees, dirt, grass, and some small rocks. Everything looks fine.

So why does he get the feeling that he's being watched?

Nothing is behind him when he glances over his shoulder, but to be safe, he moves forward. He walks straight forward, passing lots of trees, until he comes to a fence. _Great_, he thinks. He follows the fence to the left, and he notices it curves inward. _Am I in a circle?_

He sees a shape up ahead. Curious, he shines the flashlight beam towards it. It's two crossing walls. Something white and black is on one of them. He picks his way through the woods, and as he nears the cross walls, he sees the white and black thing is a page with stuff scrawled on it. Once he's close enough, he can make out the words: _Can't run._

Boom.

He jumps and turns around. There's something standing behind that tree there, but even when he shines the light that way, it's too dark to tell who it is. His heart pounds, and he grabs the page before running away. Honestly, he doesn't know why he took the page, but maybe it will come in handy. Somehow. If he needs to take notes or make an origami hat. Sigh. The paper's useless.

Boom.

He spots a tunnel next and darts into it, coming to a stop in the middle. Surprisingly, he's not out of breath, but the flashlight beam reveals another one of those pages. This time, it has a crude drawing of him and the words: _Don't look, or it takes you_.

BOOM.

It's louder this time. He nearly drops the flashlight as he shines it towards one end of the tunnel. Someone's there, dressed all in black and with blood red eyes. He runs away, but it seems the dark figure's catching up to him, getting closer every time he finds a page. He finds them in really bizarre places: an empty bathroom with an overturned wooden chair, rusted tankers, a blue truck, a scary tree, a red silo, and large rocks. The pages he finds don't make any more sense than the first two, but they still send chills through him: a sketch of him in a forest along with _Follows_; another sketch of him in the forest; _Help me_; _Always watches, No eyes_; a disturbing one of him surrounded by a dozen _No_s; and the very last one, the one on the large rocks, says _Leave me alone_.

BOOM!

He turns around - and barely stifles a scream at the sight of the dark figure standing a few feet away. Its eyes glow red as it raises a gloved hand, a dagger gleaming steely gray...

"Aaahhhhhhhhh!" James screams, shooting up from the bed. He pants as he gazes around the cabin. No trees, no pages, no killer.

Margareta stirs next to him. "James, what's wrong?" she asks drowsily.

He rubs his face with his hand. "N-Nothing. Just go back to sleep." He lies back down, still a little shaky, and rolls onto his side facing the wall. He tugs the sheets tighter around him.

A hand stretches over him and presses against his cheek until he rolls back over to look at Margareta. "James, I know you. Something is wrong. Will you tell me?" she adds when he stays silent. She rubs his cheek with her thumb.

James lifts a hand to pry hers from his face. "That's very kind of you, but..." Images from his nightmare make him freeze in fear and unable to finish his thought.

Margareta pushes the covers off of her and slides out of the bed. "How about we go for a midnight walk?" Once they change out of their pajamas and back into their regular clothes, they leave the cabin and walk hand-in-hand down the well-worn path to the pond. Once they reach the silvery circle, Margareta leans into him and says, "Tell me what's bothering you."

He sighs. He knows she can be very stubborn. He keeps his gaze on the moonlit pond. "I had a dream I was being hunted by the serial killer and had to find eight pages." There is silence for a while, and he welcomes that.

An arm wraps around him and hugs him tight to Margareta. "I'm sorry," she says softly. "The serial killer really made a mess of things, huh?"

"Yeah." It has been a year since they confronted the Black Circle cult leader in the burning forest. Their human friends still check in with them, the Slender clans still keep in touch with one another...but James can't let go of what almost happened a year ago. All because of him.

Margareta must have read his mind, because she says, "James, you need to let him go. It's not your fault he killed people and blamed it on you. He just wanted to ruin your life-" she looks up at him, "-and if you keep letting him get to you, then he's won."

James sighs and stares at the ground. "I know. It's just...hard." He shudders. "That dream was so real."

She turns his head so she can kiss him. "It's nothing more than a bad dream," she says.

He wishes he had a mouth, so he could stretch it taut with the biggest smile ever. "I love you," he says.

"I love you, too." She rests her head on his chest, and he gently strokes her head. They stay like that for a couple minutes, the moonlight shining off of their pale skin. "So, my lovely new husband," Margareta says, pulling back enough to look up at him, "are you ready to go back to bed?"

"Of course." He rubs her hand with his thumb as they walk back to the cabin the Slender Four was nice enough to rent for them for their honeymoon. Being with his new wife and strolling through the night woods makes him feel serene. Back in the cabin, they change into pajamas and slide into bed. She falls asleep first. He strokes her cheek once and whispers, "Good night." He curls up next to her, a hand on her shoulder. Everything is alright now.

But what is that steely gray in the window?


	2. Mother's Day

**A/N: This Slender Short is dedicated to mothers everywhere, whether here on earth or watching over from beyond. You are all appreciated and loved.**

Lily's phone buzzes, but she makes no effort to reach over and grab it off the night stand. Hugging the pillow to her chest and picking at the corner of it, she stares at the ceiling. Part of her feels bad not answering her friends...but in all honesty, she just wants to be left alone. She knows she shouldn't feel that way, that her friends are always there for her - but how could they possibly know what she's going through? They're too busy getting ready for Mother's Day to even bother with her problems.

When her phone buzzes for the hundredth time this past hour, she sets aside her pillow, rises from her bed, and steps into a pair of Bearclaws. They're not the best shoes for taking a walk through the forest, but they're warm and comfy and she really doesn't want to search for her tennis shoes and make the effort of putting them on and lacing them up. Grabbing her sweater off the bedframe, she shuffles out of her bedroom and down the stairs. Hearing dim shouting and cheering coming from the other room, she figures her dad fell asleep watching sports.

She heads for the back door as silently as she can, feeling guilty for not telling her dad what she's doing or where she's going, but at the same time not caring. Shutting the door softly behind her, she wraps her sweater tighter around her as the wind picks up and makes her way across the backyard to the forest beyond. Hopefully, a walk through the woods will help clear her mind, get things off her chest, like how she and her mom used to walk around the park and talk -

_No_. She shakes her head. _Don't think about Mom._ But her lip trembles and she blinks rapidly. Keeping her gaze down, she focuses on the tree roots, rocks, and occasional fallen limb to make sure she doesn't trip and hurt herself. No one would be around to help her if she did get hurt - she sniffs and hugs herself tighter, pressing on into the woods. Involuntarily, she remembers how her mom always had a cure for something, whether a common cold or a broken heart. But how can she heal her aching heart now?

Lily continues this cycle of thinking about her mother, yet wanting not to think about her. She is so caught up in this cycle that it takes her a few minutes to feel the damp chill in the air. Stirred from her thoughts, she glances up to see a fog blurring the trees. "Huh?" She slows to a snail's pace, staring around her and wondering how it could have gotten so foggy. She rounds a tree and sees a bouquet of flowers on the ground. What -

She gasps when someone taps her shoulder and turns around - she gasps again when she looks straight up at the Slender's face (or lack thereof). "God, James, don't scare me like that!" she says.

"Sorry to startle you," the famous Slender Man says, "but I was just wondering what you're doing out here all alone. Usually I see you with friends."

"Oh." She hangs her head and mumbles, "I just wanted to go for a walk." She bites her lip and lets her honey-blonde curls fall in her face.

But James knows when someone is upset. "Lily, I'm really sorry I scared you." He wraps his long, thin arms around her. "Believe me, I never want any of you to think I'm out to get you."

"It's not that," Lily says, her voice muffled as she talks into his jacket. She returns the hug, but soon lets her arms drop, her head still down.

"Then what's wrong?"

No matter how hard she tries, tears escape and trail down her cheeks. Sliding down a tree trunk until she is curled up at the base, she buries her face in her arms and sobs. Her heart thumps when she feels a cold hand on her shoulder as James joins next to her. She sniffs, expecting him to ask why she is crying and if there is anything he can do. But after sitting in silence for a few minutes, she realizes he is not going to talk. Sniffing a couple more times and swallowing a lump in her throat, she glances up at him through strands of hair in her face. "Why are you here?" she asks, her voice heavy.

His black face turns upon her, his hand still on her shoulder. "Why am I here in the forest, or why am I here with you?"

"I dunno. Both?" Lily turns her gaze back to the ground.

"Well," James says, patting her shoulder once before removing his hand, "I figured something big must be on your mind, and I didn't want you to feel alone." She squeezes her eyes shut as more tears threaten to fall. "But I originally came here to honor my mother."

"Your mom?" she says, her voice cracking, lifting her gaze to stare at the bush across the way.

"Yes." He stretches his legs out as he leans against the tree. "My mother was killed many years ago by humans."

"Oh, yeah," Lily says, frowning. "Your dad mentioned something about that a couple months ago."

"Yes," James repeats. They sit in silence for a moment before he says, "I actually found out through another clan that she was killed. After that, I would come back to this spot of this forest and just stand in silence, remembering her."

"Why this forest?" Lily is not crying anymore, but her throat still feels thick.

"This was her favorite forest out of all the ones we traveled to." She looks up at James, who seems to be staring off into space. "This was the forest we were in the night I met Charlie. When I first met you four." He turns to her. "My mother might not have trusted the humans, but nothing kept her away from this forest. She said she could put up with some cocky, meddling humans if she could still live here."

Lily does not move or make a sound when James stretches an arm out and brings the bouquet back to them. "She used to have flowers around our dwelling. I remember she used to give my father a different flower for every anniversary, told him to keep it in his breast pocket so she would always be close to his heart."

"Awww." Lily bites her lip again, determined not to become an emotional heap of tears.

"If you want to cry," James says, "you can. I won't judge."

Just hearing that makes her want to cry, and she leans against him as all her sorrows pour out of her. She feels him rubbing and patting her head as he hugs her. "I miss my mom," she moans.

His hand stops. "That's right," he says, dropping his hands. She sniffs and wipes her eyes before looking up at him. "I remember that night. Your father attacked the killer, said that the Mender clan couldn't heal your mother."

Sniff. "This is m-my first Mother's Day w-without my mom."

"What's Mother's Day?" Lily explains the human holiday without looking up at him. "Hmm, it sounds like something Slenders have."

"What's that?"

"It's called Parents' Day. Everyone comes together and honors their mothers and fathers through gifts or words." Pause. "I feel like you're doing that now, remembering and honoring your mother."

"Mmm." Lily glances up at him. "But every year, we used to go out and do something special. Karie would make something cool to give to our mom, and Dad would tease about how he could never draw anything as good." Her gaze falls back down. "It's just gonna be so different now."

They sit there in silence for a while. "Well, if you ever want to talk about it," James says, "I'll listen. I know what it's like losing a mother."

She curls up next to him. "Thanks, James."

"And don't be afraid to cry. It took me a few years before I stopped crying over my mother, but I still miss her every day."

Lily hesitates before saying, "You know, my mom's buried at the cemetery on Aspen Street. I'll probably visit her grave on Mother's Day if you, um, wanted to come pay respects to your mom, too. For Parents' Day?"

"...Sure, I think I'd like that." They sit there, sharing memories of their moms and discussing their plans for the upcoming Sunday, until it gets dark. He offers to teleport her back home.

When they are in her backyard, before heading inside, Lily turns and gives James a big hug. "Thanks for listening," she says, a small, gentle smile on her face.

He returns the gesture. "You're welcome."

* * *

Mother's Day came and went. People visited with their families or called them. Others went to the cemetery to leave flowers or flags at the graves of their loved ones. If you visit the cemetery the day after, there is a tombstone near the center of the right fence with twice as many gifts as the other graves. Pages and flowers lie atop the stone. One of the pages is a crude drawing of stick figures depicting two angels watching over a grieving family. Another is a poem about flowers in a forest.

A bouquet of white lilies and amaranths lies atop the third page. If you gently pick up the flowers, you would see a note signed by three people. The note reads, "To Angela Sarah Fitzgerald and Maria Louise Slenderman. Forever in our hearts."

**A/N: Wow, I just realized how depressing I made this story. I got so teary-eyed writing this, too. But I wanted to write something for Mother's Day and what it means to those who have lost mothers. I hope you enjoyed reading this.**

**Happy Mother's Day!**


	3. Tristan du Mad?

It feels weird for Harry to frown - he's a Splendor Slender after all - but he continues to frown as he steps back from the trunk at the foot of his bed. Ricky's parents are going to an event for someone's work, and he's going to look after Ricky, since Peter's in a play and can't watch his little brother - but Harry and Ricky are going to play dress-up, and all Harry has are polka-dotted suits, shiny black shoes, and black top hats. No wizard costumes, no pirate shirts, not even a cape for a superhero outfit.

"Oh, dear," he mutters, touching his face with one hand, his elbow in his other hand. He's supposed to be at the Anderson household in a couple hours. How's he going to get a costume to play dress-up in?

His black eyes widen, a smile growing on his face. He knows one person who can help him.

* * *

"C'est magnifique," Tristan du Mode says, clapping his hands together as he steps back from the mannequin wearing his latest creation. He'd like to see Christian Dior try to top this stunning strapless evening gown. He feels a twinge of envy in his heart at the fact that Dior, being a human, can easily show his face at fashion shows, whereas Tristan, being a Slender, either has to wear a disguise when he attends these shows or send someone in his place and explain that he, the designer, can't make it.

_If only humans were more accepting of Slenders_, he thinks as he smooths out a non-existent wrinkle on the dress. He knows about the Slender Four and the humans who risked their lives to protect the Slenders - word travels fast amongst the Slender clans - but he knows what the rest of the human populace thinks about his kind. At a Halloween party that Paul Frank hosted last year, someone came as the "Slender Man" (Tristan had been so insulted seeing a human dress up as James) and a few people made comments about how Slender Man was creepy - and not in a fun, spooky kind of way. He had to leave the party early to keep from doing something that would reveal him as a Slender. James almost blew it when humans saw him in the park, Tristan wasn't about to make the same mistake.

He stifles a yawn. It had taken him much longer to finish the dress - it took him nearly half the day to craft the deep blue, sequin-embellished gown to perfection. He shakes his head a little to wake him up, steps back to the table to collect his gray hat and blazer. He puts his coat on and walks to the door, since the humans don't know he's a Slender and expect him to come and go like a normal person. He sets his hat on his head.

He stifles a shriek when Harry Splendorman appears right in front of him, a huge smile on his face. "Tristy!" he says, throwing his arms around the startled Slender.

"'Arry? What are you doing 'ere?"

"I really need your help." He lets go of Tristan and waves his arms wildly as he says, "I'm supposed to babysit Ricky, but he wants to play dress-up, but I don't have anything except my own clothes and I have to be there in a couple hours and-"

"Calmez-vous," Tristan says, stretching a hand out to cover Harry's mouth. "So, what eez it zat you want?"

Harry moves his head away and says, "I need you to make a couple costumes for me."

Sigh. "'Arry," Tristan says, rubbing the place where his eyes would be, "I am a fashion designer. I make clothes for people to wear out, not for playing wis_ les enfants_." He tries to sidestep around Harry.

"Please!" Harry blocks Tristan and clasps his hands together in a begging gesture. "You're the only Trender Slender I know, and-"

"'Trender Slender?'" Tristan cocks his head.

"You know, a Slender from the Trender clan. I'm a Splendor Slender, because I'm from the Splendor clan." He beams proudly.

"'Ow could I forget?" Splendors are the only Slenders to have faces - plus, if Harry's childlike wonder, bubbly personality, and colorful outfit didn't demonstrate his Splendor-ness, nothing would.

"Pleeeeeeease?" Harry falls to his knees, about ready to hug Tristan's legs tightly. "It's just a couple of costumes. I promise I'll stop popping in your studio unnanounced!"

Tristan steps back - partly to avoid being caught in Harry's hug attack (should it happen), but also in surprise. It's in the nature of Splendors to pop in unannounced from time to time, bringing mirth and cheer and putting smiles on everyone's faces. Harry, though, would pop into his studio more times than he cared for, sometimes bumping into mannequins or spilling rolls of fabric. Tristan would've been glad he didn't have a face, then Harry couldn't see him glaring and stay longer to try to cheer him up. He knows Harry will eventually go back to showing up unnanounced - but the opportunity to work in peace, for who knows how long, makes him say, "Alright. I will do it."

* * *

"Do you mind?"

Harry steps back from Tristan's work table, holding his hands up. "Sorry. I'll just be-" He bumps into the mannequin wearing the evening gown.

Tristan gasps and shoots out an arm to catch the mannequin. He sighs, turning his head to "stare" at Harry, who's suddenly bashful and interested in the pictures of fashion sketches on the wall, going over to it. He straightens the mannequin and turns back to the unfinished shirt. _Almost done_, he thinks. He tries to block out Harry, who says "Ooh, pretty!" or "Wow, these are nice clothes!" every ten seconds.

"I doubt any ozer Trenders have to put up wis zis," he mutters under his breath. Thanks to his clan's power, he's almost done with the two simple costumes. They would've taken him about ten minutes each - but thanks to Harry, it's taken him almost an hour, what with straightening all the mannequins and tables and picking up spilled tools, embellishments, and fabrics.

"Hey, Tristan," Harry says, interrupting the Trender's concentration for the umpteenth time this night, "when I want to come over, do you want me to call first, or send someone else ahead of me, or-"

"I don't care," Tristan snaps. "And if you interrupt me again, I will make sure zat zese costumes will be ze last sings you ever get from me!"

"Sorry," Harry says quietly, rubbing one of his black-gloved hands with the other. He didn't mean to make Tristan so mad, he was just wondering. _Maybe some cake would make him feel better_, he thinks. _It always makes me feel better_.

He looks over his shoulder and opens his mouth to ask Tristan what his favorite flavor is when he hears the Trender mutter, "I will be 'appy when zat fool stops coming 'here!"

That makes Harry shut his mouth, tears stinging his dark eyes. Tristan...doesn't want him around anymore? Doesn't he like it when Harry surprises him with crumb cake or with a bear hug from behind? He turns back to the wall. Now that he thinks about it, Tristan would almost always toss the cake aside, and if he surprised the Trender with a hug, Tristan would refuse to speak to him for several minutes. Was Harry really that annoying?

He bites his lip, but it trembles. He rubs his eyes with his fists. What did he do wrong? Splendors are supposed to make people feel better when they're sad, cheer them up when they're stressed. If Tristan is this upset, either he was born a grumpy-puss, or Harry's failed the Splendor clan.

"Finally, I am done," Tristan says.

Harry sniffs and quickly wipes his eyes with his sleeve before turning around, putting on the biggest grin he can muster. "Thanks a lot, Tristan." He takes the parcel of clothes and shuffles back. "I, uh, guess I'll see you...eventually."

"Of course."

Awkward silence. Harry stares at the white pirate shirt, mumbling, "Bye, Tristan." In a blink, he disappears.

Tristan heaves a sigh, putting away his tools and supplies and dusting his hands off. He would never admit it to Harry, but he enjoyed designing the costumes for him. They weren't evening wear or anything he'd display on the runway, but they stirred his creativity, giving him new ideas for future clothing lines. But he'll save those ideas for tomorrow. It's been a long day and he is exhausted. He sets his gray hat on his head when he feels his stomach growl. He hasn't had a bite to eat all day.

_Too bad Harry didn't bring the cake_, he thinks. He always enjoys the cakes Harry brings; he just wishes the Splendor would remember to bring plates and napkins so as not to ruin any of his gowns. He picks up his blazer and stuffs an arm in a sleeve as he heads to the door. Maybe the next time Harry stops by, Tristan will remind him to bring cake.

* * *

Harry knocks on the Andersons' front door. After a moment, the dad answers the door. "Oh, Harry!" he says, startled. "I thought you would've just popped into the living room like you usually do."

"I wouldn't want to cause any trouble," Harry says softly.

"No, it's no trouble at all," Mr. Anderson says distractedly, straightening his suit jacket. He calls over his shoulder, "Honey, where are my cufflinks?"

"Upstairs on the dresser!" his wife shouts from somewhere in the house.

"Come in, come in," he says, hurrying up the stairs.

Harry steps inside, hugging the bundle to him. He makes sure to stay out of the way as the parents rush about the house, finding last-minute items before they have to leave - though what he really wants to do is make them a soothing pot of tea, tell Mrs. Anderson that she looks beautiful even without her pearl necklace, and make sure Mr. Anderson smiles at some point tonight. But he doesn't want to make them mad like he made Tristan mad, so he forces himself to keep still and out of the way.

"Harry!"

The Splendor snaps out of his funk to see a little brown-haired boy jumping down the stairs, his blue eyes smiling up at the Slender. He can't help but beam at the child, dropping his package on the floor and bending down with his arms out to scoop up the kid and give him a really big hug. "It's nice to see you again, Ricky," he says.

"I got my pirate captain's sword," Ricky says. "And my wizard wand! What do you wanna play first?"

"Don't forget," Mr. Anderson says, grabbing his car keys. "Bedtime at nine o'clock." The parents say goodbye and hurry out the door.

Harry sets Ricky down. "So, um, what do you want to do first?"

"Let's be wizards! I'm gonna get my Gandalf costume!" He runs up the stairs.

_Do I even have a wizard costume?_ Harry kneels down to open his parcel and sees two complete outfits: a buccaneer and Dumbledore. His fingers trace the intricate detail on the robes that Tristan copied down to the last stitch. Even after all the trouble Harry's caused him, Tristan made his costumes perfect.

"Why are you so sad?"

Harry jumps, and he glances up to see Ricky in a gray robe two sizes too big, a gray Santa beard covering half of his face. "Oh, I'm sorry, Ricky," he says, sorting through the clothes and grabbing the parts of the Dumbledore costume. "I'm not even ready yet."

"Do you wanna do something different?" Ricky asks, padding over.

"I..." What does Harry want? He sets the clothes down, a faraway look in his dark eyes. He can't think of anything. "I'm just not a good Splendor anymore," he mumbles, plopping down.

"What do you mean?" Ricky scratches his face under the beard.

Harry looks up at the eight-year-old. "I'm a Splendor, and Splendors are always supposed to be happy...are supposed to make others happy." He pouts and hangs his head. "But I made my friend angry, and now I just feel terrible."

"Don't be sad." Ricky wraps his little arms around Harry in a hug, then steps back. "After James killed the bad man and we all came home, I was scared at night. Peter said it's okay to be scared, and sad, and mad, and all those other bad feelings." He points his knobbly, plastic wand at his friend. "It's the same thing with you. It's okay to be things besides happy."

Harry mulls over this. He failed at his job, he made Tristan upset...but, if it's okay for him to be upset, maybe it's okay for Tristan to be upset, too? That thought gives Harry hope. Maybe one day the Trender will forgive him and he can go back to the studio.

In the meantime, he doesn't want to spend all night moping. He came to play, didn't he? Putting on the biggest smile he can, Harry says, "Last one upstairs is a rotten egg!"

Ricky scrambles to his feet and shoots up the staircase - but Harry teleports to the boy's room in no time. His smile falters once before Ricky pushes open the door. It won't be easy forgetting how upset he is or Tristan is, but he owes it to the little boy waving his plastic wand around to try to have fun, to be happy, to be his Splendor self again.

**A/N: This was inspired by NixiePixieStix's comment from "Slender Blind." She though Harry would like shopping, so that gave rise to this one-shot. :) Thanks, NixiePixieStix!**


	4. Friendship Day, Part 1

"Are you alright, miss?"

I turn my gaze away from the frosty window and look up at the faceless woman in the wine-colored sweater and black pants. "Oh, I'm fine," I say in a quiet voice, offering a little smile.

"You sure? You've been staring out that window for a long time." Margareta sits down on the window seat next to me.

My gaze drifts back outside. "Just thinking," I softly reply.

"About what?"

If I stay silent, will she go away? No, that's such a terrible thing to think. She and the others were nice enough to let me join them, the least I can do is try to be a gracious guest. "Just stuff."

Before Margareta can say anything else, I hear Tommy call from the other room, "Dinner's ready!"

"Come on," the Slender lady says, rising to her feet. "We'd better grab some of the food before the boys eat it all."

A faint grin appears on my face. "Yeah," I mumble.

As soon as we walk into the dining room, a thousand different scents bombard my nose. Harry Splendorman really outdid himself with this feast: roasted meats, grilled vegetables, mashed potatoes, fresh fruit, candied nuts...too many things to name! We all take our seats (I'm right in between Trevor and Jenna) and then Harry stands up, tapping his glass with a silver fork. "Thank you all so much for coming," he starts off. "I know we've been trying to plan a reunion for a long time, and there are still some of us missing." Peter broke his leg in a skateboarding accident, and it would have aroused too much suspicion if we took him out of the hospital and to the Mender clan for a quick fix-up. "Nevertheless, they are still with us tonight, as we celebrate Friendship Day!" Everyone cheers, and I join them. After some more kind words, Harry lets us dig in.

Well, everyone else digs in. I just poke around at my food. I wasn't really feeling hungry before, and even though everything looks and smells delicious here (and I haven't eaten anything since lunch more than four hours ago) I don't feel up to eating anything right now. I look to my left and my right - all around me people are chatting and gossiping. I try to listen to Jenna talking to Lily about a reality show they both like, but it's hard to hear them over James Slenderman and Victor Slayerman at the end of the table laughing over a random joke. Besides, the reality show doesn't interest me much.

"Hey, how's the food?" Trevor asks, leaning over to me.

"Um, I haven't eaten much, but what I had is good." Chin in my hand, I push some diced carrots and peas around with my fork. I make myself eat a bite of seasoned turkey. How do so many flavors fit on one piece of meat?

"I bet it all looks good, huh?" Trevor smirks at his own joke before returning to his own plate. Ever since I met Trevor a few months ago, his jokes always made me smile, if not laugh along with him. Tonight, though, I just feel like ripping a pillow to shreds, the down flying everywhere.

Gah, what's wrong with me? I know I'm an introvert, but I've never been like this before! At least, not in front of the Slender gang.

I hear someone call my name, and I glance to my left to see Harry casting me a worried face. "Don't you like the food?" he asks.

With a nod and a smile, I explain, "I do, I just wasn't very hungry when I came here, is all."

"Oh, alright-y then." He beams. "Want me to leave you some of the leftovers?"

"Um..." I stare at the mountain range of food in front of me.

"Give her some time to digest, Harry," Margareta calls from the other side of the table, where she and James are holding hands.

"I'm just trying to be a gracious host," he says with a pout. Though the twinkle in his dark eyes show that he is playing around.

"I'll take some leftovers!" Tommy says, raising a hand. Except his mouth is stuffed with potatoes, leeks, and turnips, so it sounds more like, "Mmph hmm mm mnmmh!"

"There should be enough for everyone," James' father says, inspecting the amount of food on the table.

Harry laughs, a light and bubbly sound. "I hope so. I cooked for three whole days making this."

Everyone gabbed excitedly. Everyone, that is, except me. This whole time, I've set my fork down and crossed my arms. I'm not feeling well - and it's not just the food. I've gotta get out of here. "Excuse me," I say softly, getting up from the table and walking out of the room, head down and arms crossed.

"Come back and join us when you're feeling a bit hungrier!" Lily calls.

But I don't have plans on rejoining them. Grabbing my heavy coat, I bundle up and open the front door, stepping out into the snowy twilight. For ten minutes, I trudge my way through the snow to a spot I remember Tommy taking me soon after I got here. By the time I reach the fallen log, it's nearly dark. I plop down and stare out at the frozen pond with a huff. Despite it being freezing cold outside and me mentally kicking myself for forgetting to bring gloves or a scarf, it's beautiful the way the stars peek out over the trees and above the pond. The moon is also out, making the ice and snow glitter enchantingly. I sigh again, this time in admiration.

"Êtes-vous bien?"

I jump and glance behind me to see a stylishly-dressed Slender in a gray coat, scarf, and hat standing next to a bare birch laden with snow. "Um...buenas noches?"

"Do you speak French, mademoiselle?" he asks.

"Um, no, I don't. I only speak Spanish."

He walks closer to me, and even though Trevor and the Slender Four already explained the whole Slender-Man-mythos-is-real thing, a chill shoots down my spine. "I am afraid I do not know Spanish."

"Hmm." I resume looking at the pond...although I have no idea if I should engage in some sort of contact with the Slender so things look okay.

Before I can open my mouth to say anything, he says, "You 'ave a lot on your mind, I see."

"Is is that obvious?" I deadpan, hugging myself tighter.

"You scowl at the pond, you grip your arms rather tightly, and your eyes glisten." Out of the corner of my eye, I see him sit down next to me. "You look like something bad happened to you."

I grumble and keep my stare straight ahead. This French Slender got it right - but no way am I telling him that.

"Why are you out 'ere? Eet is cold. C'est trop froid."

"Just 'cause," I say with a shrug.

"I may not interact wis a lot of 'umans, but I know when one is upset."

"It's nothing," I say a little more forcefully.

"Are you sure-"

"I said I'm fine!" As soon as I say that and I see him recoil in surprise, I wince and turn away, feeling a warm tear escape and trickle down my cheek. "Just go away please. I want to be alone."

A moment passes before he says, "I will not go. We do not 'ave to speak, but I do not want to leave you alone out 'ere in ze cold."

I let out a moan. The pond and the night sky don't fill me with joy as they did before this French jerk showed up. No, he's not a jerk. I blink rapidly, and more tears escape. What is wrong with me?

"Why do you say zat?" the French Slender says, making me flinch.

I realize I said that last bit out loud. Would it be rude if I just kept quiet? Even so, I blurt out, "I say things when I shouldn't, I don't when I should, and everyone seems to know what to say except me, who has no idea what to say to people and sometimes feel like I'm snubbing people without meaning to! And on top of that, I'm taking fourteen units worth of classes and doing four clubs _and_ a movie project _and_ a sorority all this quarter, and I feel like I have no time whatsoever to do anything fun, but other friends of mine are taking more units than me and are _working_ as well, and they can handle all that plus a few stupid clubs! And now I have to deal with family drama, 'cause my parents are divorced and my dad wants to see my sister for the whole summer, but she can't go the whole summer, so he figured one month, but she wants less than that, and I don't know what to do to help the situation without it blowing up in my face!"

I take a deep breath. "And on top of that, I'm friends with the Slender gang, and everybody's so nice, but I'm still thinking about the Slender Man myth that's been online, but that's not fair to any Slender there or elsewhere, and I feel so terrible thinking about Slenders being bad people when I know they're not. I mean, I got permission from Trevor and Lily and all them to write about how good everyone is, and that Slenders never did anything bad, but something happened recently to make me think of the bad side of the Slender mythos and now I feel like one of the worst people in the world because I can't even celebrate this stupid Friendship Day without being rude to anyone or participating in any of the fun things 'cause all I wanna do is hide in my room back home and do nothing!" I take another breath, now that I'm all done, but this breath is shudder-y. More hot tears fall down my face, some dripping onto my jeans. I hang my head. "I feel so awful and pathetic and...and something else that's bad." Ugh, I can't even think straight. There _is _something wrong with me!

"Eep," I say when I feel the French Slender wrap his long arms around me in a hug, rubbing my back. My heart thuds rapidly for a few seconds before I realize he's just trying to be friendly. I let myself relax in his arms, patting one of them since in the position I'm in, I can't stretch my arms around.

"You are not awful or pathetic," he says in a firm, yet kind voice. "You just 'ave a lot going on for you right now. Zere is nosing shameful about zat."

"Yeah, but-"

"You are not perfect. No one is. But you should not compare yourself to zose oser 'umans." He pulls away and looks down at me. God, that faceless expression is creepy. "And eet is always okay to keep silent if you do not wish to speak. I myself sometimes keep silent at ze fashion shows."

"Mmm."

"And you say you don't know when to speak or not?" He chuckles. "Zat reminds me of my friend, 'arry."

"Harry?" I sniff, dab at my eye. "As in, Harry Splendorman?"

"You know 'im?"

"Yeah, he's hosting the Friendship Day dinner. I wasn't hungry, though, and I just wanted to be alone." My gaze trails back to the pond.

"Is today Friendship Day?" The Slender sounds sad. "'Arry always invites me. Why did he not zis time?"

"Aw, I'm sorry to hear that." I frown. Harry is so nice to everyone, why would he leave a friend out? "Well, I'm sure if you went there now, they'd let you in. There's enough food for two armies in there, I swear."

He chuckles wistfully. "Just like 'arry to fill everyone up."

I take a deep breath. I definitely feel calmer now that I've cried everything out and talked to this nice Slender guy. "Hey, I'm gonna head back that way if you wanna come, too."

He thinks for a moment, then looks down at me and says, "Mai oui. Merci beaucoup."

Just then, an icy wind picks up, blowing the French Slender's gray hat off and onto the middle of the pond. "Here, I'll get it," I say, jumping to my feet to make myself useful for once today.

"No, mademoiselle, wait-"

But I already step onto the ice. I don't know why I thought the ice would be strong enough to hold my weight, but before I can take more than two steps, the ice cracks and I fall through. I try swimming for the surface, but the water is _freezing_, and my limbs slowly stop working. The last thing I hear before everything goes black is someone calling for help.

**A/N: This is the first part of a short story. The next part will come soon-ish. And Tristan's back! Yay! If I botched the French, please let me know. It's not my first language.**

**So, lately (actually for a while now), I've been in and out of a funk, and sometimes I just feel yucky. I wrote this to kind of vent my feelings - yes, this is from my point of view - and the problems I/my character lists off are some of the reasons I've been in this funk: feeling like I'm too busy, but not as busy as my friends, and feeling like I could be doing worthwhile things when I'm not. And definitely that bit about not knowing when to say something or not and feeling like I made the wrong decision.**

**This is nothing new, but I wanted to let my feelings out somehow - and also update one of my stories after who-knows-how-long! Sorry if this isn't one of the best chapters I've done, but I needed to vent and give my mind a break.**

**Oh, and this two-shot was also inspired by an idea someone left in Reviews. The second part will be mostly that idea, 'cause every story should have a happy ending. :)**


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